


Sherlock's Tooth

by Mystradigans



Series: Just a chubby, ginger kid with no friends [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Kidlock, M/M, Sherlock is a biter, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 03:38:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2176608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystradigans/pseuds/Mystradigans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>13 year old Mycroft just wanted to be noticed by Greg, the handsome, popular boy in his Science class. But, after his little brother completely embarrasses him in front of all his schoolmates, will Mycroft ever get the courage to be Greg's friend?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock's Tooth

**Author's Note:**

> This one's by Emily. I hope you like it! There's a sequel coming some time next week.

Gazing into the mirror sadly, Mycroft decided that it wasn't doing any good and that he may as well give up on his efforts to style his hair in a way that made it look less ginger, and, as it turned out, undoing his blazer buttons didn't make him look slimmer as he thought it might. He quickly combed his hair back to how he wore it normally and did up his blazer, giving his reflection one last disgusted glance. Despite the fact that he'd only turned 13 in April and was still in year 8 at school, he'd already developed an unhealthy level of self-loathing that people weren't supposed to achieve until they were at least 15 years old and a girl. And he'd just wanted to look nice because he had Science next and Science was where he sat next to Greg.

Greg was one of the popular boys at school; he was on the Football team and the Tag Rugby team and was always surrounded by his large group of friends, who were an equal mix of boys and girls. To Mycroft, who'd never been popular or even had a friend at school before, it had always seemed that Greg ought to ignore him like most of the popular kids did. But he didn't- Greg always made sure to say hi to him if they passed each other in the corridor or ask if he was OK when Mycroft came into school with reddish eyes that gave away how much he'd been crying. And now they sat next to each other in Science- they were 'lab partners'- and Mycroft had found to his confusion that being close to Greg gave him little butterflies in his belly, which was a new sensation for the chubby, ginger kid with no friends.

Greg was already there when Mycroft came into class and he smiled when he saw Mycroft crossing the room. Mycroft sat down and got his book out, trying to concentrate on Mr Anderson's voice. The truth was that it was difficult because he couldn't stop concentrating on the person next to him. Greg was tall, almost as tall as Mycroft was but he wasn't lanky like Mycroft was, and he was skinny but with muscle in his upper arms and, Mycroft assumed though of course he'd never seen them, his legs. He had longish brown hair that fell effortlessly around his face and big, chocolatey eyes that were so warm when he smiled that Mycroft felt giddy. He wore his tie loose and his shirt untucked and he was really quite beautiful in Mycroft's opinion. And now he'd looked up and caught Mycroft staring.

Mycroft felt his face heat up and was sure he must look ridiculous. He quickly turned his attention to the questions written on the board, answering each one as quickly as possible.

"Wow" Greg said in appreciation. "You must really smart! I mean, I knew you were smart-" he added hastily. "But how can you be doing those so fast?"

Great, thought Mycroft. Now Greg thought he was a weirdo. He always tried to dumb down his intelligence in school to avoid drawing attention to himself- he never answered in class and purposely got a few questions wrong on each test, so Greg hadn't realized that he was a freakishly smart chubby, ginger 13 year old with no friends. Mycroft blushed and mumbled something about how he just wanted to finish them and Greg could copy if he wanted and wished he could be anywhere else but there.

A few minutes later, Mr Anderson stormed out of the classroom like he had a slight tendency to do (Mycroft could tell that it was because his marriage was failing due to his wife finding out about his affair with Miss Donovan the Geography teacher, although he thought it best not to mention this). When the door opened again, suggesting that a supply teacher had at last arrived to take the class, Greg had turned around in his seat to talk to Michael Dimmock and Mycroft was working in silence, the only member of the class not to take advantage of the lack of supervision. He kept his head down until a small hand suddenly tugged at his trouser leg and he realized that it was not an adult who had entered the classroom.

"My-Coff" said Sherlock proudly, beaming up at his older brother.

"Sherlock!" Mycroft gasped, glancing over at Greg's turned back and praying that he didn't see the 5 year old who was currently smearing strawberry jam onto Mycroft's uniform. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at Reception- how did even get here?"

"Walked" Sherlock scowled. "Obviously"

"Oh my God, you could've been killed, they're going to be freaking out at the primary school- what if they've called Mummy?" panicked Mycroft.

"But My-Coff, my toof came out" whined Sherlock. He held out his hand and sure enough there was a baby tooth there.

"Oh." said Mycroft. "Did you tell Mrs Hudson?" (Mrs Hudson was Sherlock's teacher and for some reason she seemed to like the mud-throwing, jam-smearing toddler)

"Yup" Sherlock smirked. "She said it wad good an the toof fairy wood give me money, but there's no such twing so I twought I'd get it off you"

He embellished this with a wide grin that showed off the gap where the tooth had been and it was rather adorable. Mycroft pulled out his wallet and handed Sherlock a pound coin.

"There you go. Don't eat it." Sherlock was known for biting everything he could get his hands on, including his teddy bears, a model skull that had shattered under his tiny teeth and caused Sherlock to cry for an entire weekend, Mummys's antique chairs and Aunty Joyce.

"Hey Mycroft, is that your brother?" asked Greg suddenly. At once, several people from around the room surrounded Sherlock and Mycroft going "Bless, he's so cute" and "Aww, look at his hair!". Mycroft felt extremely uncomfortable at being surrounded by all these people and evidently Sherlock was too because he reached out and grabbed one of Greg's fingers, biting him hard.

 

"I'm so sorry!" Mycroft said for what was at least the hundredth time. He looked miserably over to where Greg was sat on the sink cabinet of the boy's bathroom, inspecting his finger. After making sure that Anthea, his family's assistant, arrived to take Sherlock back to his Reception class, he'd headed to the toilets where Greg was washing his wound to apologize and had proceeded to get into a state of frustrated desperation at the boy's refusal to get angry at Mycroft for letting his little brother bite Greg's finger.

"It's really OK" Greg said. "Poor kid just panicked when he saw everyone looking at him. He's a bit shy, like you"

Mycroft blushed. "I'm not that shy!" Then he remembered that he was, actually, and stared at the floor, annoyed at the sudden tears that were stinging his eyes. It had been a long day, full of humiliation and he'd embarrassed himself in front of Greg already enough today without crying in front of him as well. "It's just that, well, I get nervous when people are looking at me because I'm fat, and my hair, and well you probably think I'm pathetic now if you didn't already and, and, andIreallyjustwantedyoutolikeme!" The last part came out as a muffled sob and Mycroft was ashamed at how squeaky his voice sounded.

Greg put a hand on Mycroft's arm in an attempt to comfort him. "Oh Mycroft, please don't cry. I don't think you're.. pathetic or anything"

Mycroft let out another sob, hyperventilating a little. "I AM pathetic" he wailed.

"Hey now, no you're not" promised Greg, his own eyes misting up. He was really quite distressed by Mycroft's tears and it was upsetting him to see the younger boy so full of self loathing.

With a sniff and a gulp, Mycroft managed to stop his crying, or at least steady himself a bit. Greg found him a tissue and he wiped his nose, taking deep shuddering breaths to calm himself down.

"Thank you" Mycroft stammered once he could trust himself to speak. "Sorry about that I just.."

"No, don't worry about it!" Greg insisted. He glanced down at his feet nervously. "Uh, hey, Mycroft, would you maybe like to come round to my house after school?"

Mycroft smiled and nodded. "Uhm yeah, that would be- a- are you sure?" he stammered.

"Of course" Greg said with a grin. "We could be friends, you and me"

"I-I'd like that" mumbled Mycroft, his cheeks going pink. "I'd like that a lot, Greg"

And in that moment Mycroft made a silent promise to buy Sherlock a new skull, as a thank-you for being clever enough to bite Greg Lestrade on the finger.


End file.
